#drawing them is my therapy session

[peachipies]

quiet afternoon 💤

[frankensteinposm0]

« But you are everything to me. »

I might turn this into a comic but I have to think about it. Anyways the sillies 🫶🏻

[sysig]

He needs so much attention, all the time (Patreon)

[tennis-kittens]

AO 2024 • Doubles • R1 • Miscellaneous

[robinsnest2111]

idly wondering with what experts would diagnose me if I was 100% truthful and could remember every single thing that happened to me and every single quirk I developed because of it <3

[the-acid-pear]

Phone buying update 👍 gonna have to take a fucking, moment LMAO. I have seen so many beautiful phones to buy. And I will. But I am not that fucking rich. I've been spending a lot of money lately. This is good for my health tho. I'm really excited to, actually do something with my bedroom.

One thing I kinda super want to buy despite being as expensive as a phone is this little... Phone shaped ceramic thing for rings. But I'd focus less on accessories for now more on the real thing.

I'm torn in which model to buy first. My options are that 500 model looking beauty or the baquelita model. I'm more leaning for the type 500 looking cutie. Bc he's stupid cheap. 7500 bc of a dent. There's a fixed one at 15k but do I look like a collectionist? I'm just a faggot. I don't discriminate.

I'm also gonna be wasting money tomorrow. Gotta buy silly things. (Pens, paper. Gonna start journaling).

Excited for my FETAP on Thursday tho. We opening the only fans boys /J

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

happy April <3

once again for the bargain price of $6.66 i will present to you a Top 5 Childhood Misadventures: April Fool’s Edition

[b1uestar-s]

s2g my brain hasn't worked in so long. I still have asks lying about that I really want to get to but one look at them and idk. It seems too much? I'm sure I'll get to them eventually, I've just been so out of it lately, and I have no idea how to get back.

[prozach27]

.

[yeitsre]

TW BLOOD

Nina The Killer Fanart

(+mood board and some writing)

I must say that I loved how this turned out and the vibe it gives, I decided to draw my own version and the Og design together for the sillies.

I really like the hair and the strap shirt ngl

Mood Board

(All pictures were taken off Pinterest)

I wanted the mood board to represent not only her physical appearance but also be intone with her personality in regards of my "au".

Overview + some notes

Nina Hopkins was utterly obsessed with the macabre tales she found on the internet, constantly immersing herself in stories of horror. Her fascination reached new heights when she discovered a notorious killer, whose dark deeds captivated her every thought. However, her obsession quickly turned dangerous. Meeting her idol for the first time shattered her, leading to a rapid descent into madness. Subjected to strict supervision and spontaneous therapy sessions, Nina's admiration turned into a burning desire for revenge. She vowed to make the one who shattered her sanity pay for the torment inflicted upon her.

She is in her late twenties (one of the "youngest" and last creepypastas that are registered)

I decided to fuse both versions of her story (the first one and the 2021 remake).

her obsession about Jeff shifted to loving him into hating him and she is currently hunting him down.

her makeup is important, not only does it meant to vaguely emulates a clown (a representation of her own depiction) but it's also suppose to make fun of the goth style by combining neon and overall scene makeup look, the reason why she does this is to make fun of Jane ( who in my version is gothic) because of her rivalry.

As a matter of fact, she does not know or has not met many of the "older" creepy pastas, nor is she interested in them (this actually includes Slenderman).

Omg idk where the Inspo came from but I am bored lol, anyways, I haven't uploaded anything here for a long time and it is crazy.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Bed Buddies

A/n: I’m supposed to be writing kinktober day five but I had this idea and just couldn’t leave it

Warnings: smut, degrading, age difference, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

James had been having trouble sleeping and couldn’t find a way to fix it, he went to Kirk thinking he’d have something and he gave him something.

Some spiritual thing James didn’t want to be bothered with. Still, he was out of options, worst comes to worst he wastes a hundred bucks.

He was told he had to have a room set up with a couch or two, a dark room with no windows, and a bed, a few small tables wouldn’t hurt.

He went out for a run, thinking it might help him sleep, not that it worked before, when he got back there you were setting up some candles on the nightstands around the bed, a notebook set on the coffee table between two couches.

You smiled over at him when you saw him and gestured for him to sit down. “Your daughter let me in.” You said, calming his nerves because he had no idea how you’d gotten there.

He nodded and sat on one couch. You finished lighting the candles, the honey lavender aroma filling the room, and went to sit on the couch across from him, picking up the notebook and pen, opening to the first page and writing stuff down, the date, the client, etc.

“So, you haven’t been sleeping?” You started.

James nodded. “Why else would I have brought you here?” He asked, a little more aggression in his tone than needed, and he knew it. It didn’t phase you much, all your clients were rich and snooty, plus he hadn’t been sleeping much and you knew that much.

“Some people just want some relax time, like a message type thing.” You explained. “Enough on other people, I want to hear about you.” You said, leaning in a little more.

It was hard to get James to talk, you found that out pretty quick, but it was your first day together so you took it slow, letting him take his time to get comfortable.

The session was about relaxing his body, finding out what was causing him to lose sleep with what little information he was giving you.

You found that drawing on his back calmed him down, not just random doodles but actually tracing his back, finding dots and connecting them.

He managed to fall asleep before 4:00 am so he was counting it as a win and invited you back, becoming a permanent client fairly fast.

After a month or so you found him getting much more comfortable with you, speaking more freely, sitting next to you on the couch.

“Lay with me.” He asked, looking up at you as he laid on his back on the bed in the room.

You chuckled at that and shook your head. “Come on, on your stomach, it’s your favourite.” You said, holding up the black marker you used.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He said, rolling onto his stomach. “Sometimes I just like something to hold in my sleep, what’s so wrong about that, huh?”

You shook your head at that, but he insisted. He didn’t get you to cuddle that night but he didn’t stop asking.

As his little therapy sessions before hand became more free spoken, his hands and eyes began opening more as well. He’d sit closer, gaze trailing over your body, hands lightly touching your knees.

You’d made a promise you’d never sleep with your clients, that being said most of your clients were women, even if they weren’t they were old and gross and hateful vermin, it was easy to find their advances annoying and unwanted.

James was different.

You found yourself craving his touch and wearing tighter or more revealing clothing, when he asked for cuddles after it was getting harder and harder to say no to him.

James had your face shoved into the pillow, one hand on your back to keep you there and the other gripping your hip so tightly it was sure to leave bruises.

The room echoed with your moans and cries for him as he slammed himself into you over and over, deep groans falling from his lips.

“Fuck, darlin’, you feel so good~” He mused, rotating his hips in smooth circles, driving you insane. “So fucking tight, no one’s fucked you right a minute, huh, sweetheart?” He asked leaning down to you.

You shook your head, whining as he slowed his pace, taking away yet another high you’d been so, so close to.

He brought the hand that was on your hip up before bringing it down on your ass, leaving a pink mark in its wake. “Words, slut.”

“No-no, sir, I-I haven’t.” You stuttered out, hands gripping the sheets tighter.

James laughed loudly before it got interrupted by another groan. “That’s my darling, my good girl.”

[mellosdrawings]

question: are you shipping leona, jamil and vil?

I was gonna do a fun collage about the N2 squad but I think I'll answer seriously (for once).

Originally the N2 Squad was just a fun group to make doodles with. Just three unlucky guys vibing and maybe taking therapy sessions together for their common problems.

Now. Yeah I guess I ship them.

Some of my N2 art is a bit more obvious with the shipping (*cough* OB!N2 AU tag *cough*) but some are literally them just vibing together. I'm not big on drawing huge displays of affection so I think you could read it however you want on most of my N2 squad posts.

Welp, I still did a stupid collage in the end.

Tldr: Unless I draw them kissing or explicitly simping for each other, you can tots read it as platonic.

[llamagoddessofficial]

I'm on my knees for any more crumbs with prison AU therapist Mc and Sans 🙏 the more equal(?) dynamic is just so good And to the anon that brought it up—I love you

I'll do you one better. Here's some crumbs for ALL of them

Since she's not a nurse, this Mc doesn't have a very strong stomach. Stories of Skull's crimes sometimes make her physically ill.

Generally, Sans and Mc's 'sessions' can be quite pleasant. They talk about current events, how things are going. It's only once she starts trying to explore his feelings that he starts toying with her.

... Red teases her a lot. She tries not to react to it, it's unprofessional, but he can always tell when he's flustering her. He gets this infuriating smug grin.

Since Red is a high risk prisoner, he has to have one hand cuffed to a table during therapy. He often complains that he wishes he could be cuffed alone in a room with her in different circumstances. What Mc doesn't realise is that, considering his strength, the cuffs are basically for decoration- Red just pretends he can't break out of them so she feels more comfortable alone in a room with a massive skeleton monster who openly displays interest in her.

Sans doesn't require cuffs in his sessions. And the only time he was cuffed, he snapped them 'accidentally' to make a point. It just makes it all the more nervewracking for Mc.

Skull doesn't know she's his therapist. He thinks she just really cares about him. That's why she keeps coming back to see him, right?

Red isn't the only flirt. Sans is a lot more forward in this AU, considering she knows the truth about his nature. Granted, Sans being 'clear' about something is still incredibly cryptic, but he enjoys the shock in her eyes whenever he calmly flirts with her.

Red's flirting is warm, sincere, and never crosses the line... it leaves her flushed and (though she'd never admit it) flattered. Sans' flirting is nervewracking. It makes her feel like she's a mouse, and Sans is a cat playfully batting at her, capable of clawing her to death at any moment.

Skull gains bits and pieces of speech back a lot faster with her. Unfortunately, that means he's learning how to terrify the guards. It used to be that Skull would just scream or snarl, but now he likes to say broken ominous sentences to guards he doesn't like to see them shit their pants.

He's also figured out that, when he's really upset and angry, if he screams her name enough someone will send her. It's not a great lesson to learn... but it's better than him deciding to attack people.

Whenever Mc tries to get Skull to do therapeutic art with her, he just draws the same thing over and over. The art is scribbly thanks to his tremor, but it always looks like three people; a tall skeleton, a shorter skeleton, and a human. He draws them in various positions- standing together, sitting around a table, sitting on a couch. She suspects one skeleton is him and the human could be her, but she doesn't know who the tall skeleton is.

(It's him, her, and Papyrus. His family)

Sans, for all his power and control, gets ratty and jealous when she treats other people. The first time he hears her laugh is when she realises that was why he's being moody.

She'd never seen him so delighted before.

Sans likes when she dodges his conversational traps. He'll try to lure her into talking about herself, revealing information to him, but she won't fall for it and always turns it back on him. There's not much he's been able to glean from her. It's always so fun, to play with someone who knows what they're doing.

Again, she'll never admit it. But Mc is fascinated by Sans. Most serial killers are delusional and kinda pathetic, but Sans is as if all the stereotypes of the 'genius mastermind serial killer' were true. She gets to be up close and personal, see how he works; she gets to watch his mask rise and fall in real time.

Of course, he knows she's fascinated. He uses it to keep her coming back. He's fascinated with her, too~

[candycandy00]

Hii! For your 2k followers event can you do

Character: Toji

AU Setting: Prison (As prisoner)

Spice Level: NSFW

Mood: Writers choice :)

Kinks: Whatever you see fit!!

Catch You on the Outside - A Toji x Reader Fanfic

Smut. 18+. AU. Fem Reader. Toji as a Prisoner. Rough sex. Rough oral.

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! These two requests were very similar so I combined them. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated! Dividers by @benkeibear!

You’re walking down the hall of the prison, just finishing your daily sessions with the prisoners in your therapy program, when you see him. 

Fushiguro Toji. You heard he was being transferred here, but you didn’t realize it would be today. He’s quite notorious, with a long list of convictions. Multiple counts of murder, extortion, armed robbery, assault, and dozens of lesser offenses. If it’s bad, he’s probably done it at some point. 

He’s so much bigger in person than he looked on the news. How tall is this guy? And he so muscular that he looks like he could wrestle a grizzly bear and win. He’s also much better looking in person. His face, though scarred and a bit rugged, is very handsome and his eyes are a sharp emerald green. 

As a team of six guards lead him by you, his eyes shift over to you. They travel shamelessly up and down your body, and it feels like his gaze is peeling your clothes off right there in the hall. It makes your face flush with heat. You’re no stranger to being ogled by the prisoners here, but there’s something absolutely obscene about the way Toji does it, the look in his eyes that says, “I’ll be fucking you by the weekend”, the way he subtly licks his lips, the way he smirks as if he could break loose and snap every guard’s neck before anyone could draw a gun.

It all sends a shiver down your spine. And as much as you hate to admit it, you feel a growing wetness in your panties. 

The next day you’re surprised to find out Toji signed up for the therapy program. He didn’t seem like the type to give therapy a shot, and you wonder if he only signed up so that he could be alone in a room with you. It wouldn’t be the first time a prisoner has tried that. You can always tell right away when they have no interest in actually talking about their feelings. They spend the session staring at your tits and sometimes even making disgusting comments or outright asking you for sex. You report their behavior and boot them from the program without a second thought. 

So what will it be with Toji? As you walk into the room to have your first session with him, you find yourself almost hoping he’ll proposition you. Of course you wouldn’t act on it. You’re a professional after all. But it might give you some masturbation material for tonight. Lord knows your brief run in with him yesterday gave you plenty for last night. 

He’s sitting in a metal chair, his wrists handcuffed behind his back. There’s a table in front of him, and another chair for you to sit across from him. Three guards are standing in the room. 

“You three can step out,” you tell them. Guards never stay in the room during sessions. Instead they wait outside the door. There’s also a camera in the corner of the room. It doesn’t record sound, only visuals, to protect the privacy of the prisoners. 

“We were told to stay in here,” one of them says. “Fushiguro has been known to attack doctors and therapists in the past.”

You glance over at him, and he gives you a smile. 

“He’s handcuffed, what’s he going to do?” you ask. 

One of the guards glances apprehensively at Toji. “I don’t think you realize how dangerous he is, ma’am.”

You bristle at that remark. “Are you seriously implying I don’t understand how dangerous my job is? I’ve worked with violent criminals daily for five years. I’ve had knives held to my throat. I’ve been punched in the face. Three different men have tried to rape me. So don’t tell me how dangerous this is!”

The guard seems to shrivel a bit at your outburst. “I’m sorry, but we can’t just leave you alone in here with him.”

“Listen,” you say, stepping closer to him, “doing my job properly depends on establishing trust with the prisoner. I can’t do that with you three hovering around in here. So wait outside the door. I’ll scream if he tries anything.”

The three guards look at each other, then one of them sighs and says, “We’ll give you twenty minutes.”

With that, they file out of the room and shut the door. You stare after them for a moment, feeling irritated but also proud of yourself for standing your ground. Then you walk over and take the seat across from Toji. 

“I’m sorry about that. I’ll have a word with the warden before tomorrow’s session,” you tell him, pulling your notepad and pen, as well as a recording device, from your bag. “Do you have any objections to me recording our conversations?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t care.”

You study his face. He still has that oddly confident look, as if he’s only staying here in prison for the fun of it. 

“Fushiguro-san, I want to make something clear right off the bat. If I think you’re not serious about this program, I’ll remove you immediately. But if you want to give therapy a fair shot, I’ll be happy to help you to the best of my ability.”

“Call me Toji,” he says, a smirk on his scarred lips. “And I’m completely serious about this. Why else would I sign up?”

You’ve already pushed record on the device and sat it between the two of you on the table. “Some prisoners sign up just to get close to me,” you say, opening your notebook to a clean page. 

“Really? Well don’t worry,” he says, that damn smirk still on his face, “I’m not that desperate. I’ve fucked enough women to last a lifetime.”

The comment gives you pause. Professionally, you should be relieved. But personally? You find it a little insulting. You click your fountain pen. “That’s good to know,” you say smoothly. 

“Don’t tell me you’re disappointed,” he says. 

“Of course not. It’s best for you if you see me as a professional here to help you.”

He laughs. “Best for you too.”

You look up from your notepad. “What do you mean by that?”

He tilts his head slightly, looking at you the way a lion looks at a wounded zebra. “If I saw you as a woman I wanna fuck, I’d have you bent over this table already.”

You know exactly what he’s doing, and he’s not the first. You sit your pen on the table and look at him with a cool expression. “And if I saw you as a man I want to fuck,��Toji, I’d be under this table deep throating your cock right now. Thankfully, we’ve established that’s not the case, so let’s begin the session, shall we?”

His eyes widen slightly, then a broad grin spreads over his face. “Well, aren’t you a little firecracker!”

“No, I’m a woman who has dealt with men like you for years. So if you want to shock or frighten me, you’ll have to do better than that.”

There’s a gleam of excitement in his eyes as he stares at you. “How about I take these cuffs off and ram your pretty little head into the wall until it’s just a bloody pile of hamburger?”

You scoff as you jot down notes. In red ink you’ve written “violent tendencies” and “empty threats”. You barely glance up at him as you say, “You can’t just take the cuffs off, Toji. They’re pretty much designed to prevent that.”

“Really?” he asks, then he slowly pulls his hands forward in front of him. Only one has a cuff on it, the other metal ring dangling uselessly from it. 

Your first instinct is to jump up and flee the room. He’s loose! He’s probably been loose this whole time. The most violent man that’s ever been in this prison, that you’ve just been provoking, is just a few feet away from you. Should you scream? Could the guards even make it into the room before he kills you? 

Wait, if he wanted to kill you, he probably would have already. You decide to take a gamble. “So?” you ask, trying to keep your voice even, praying he doesn’t notice the slight tremor in your hands. “What are you going to do to me, Toji?”

He’s already pulled his hands back behind him. His earlier movement had been subtle enough that the guard monitoring the camera probably didn’t even notice. Toji grins. “There’s a lot of things I wanna do to you. The list is growin’ the longer I talk to you. The question is, what do you want me to do?”

You look at him for a moment, at his smug, handsome face, at his muscular form flexing beneath the tightly fitted black T-shirt. Did the prison not have a shirt big enough for him? You sit back in your chair, crossing your legs. “I want you to take therapy seriously. I want to help-“

“You want me to split you open on my cock,” he says, cutting you off. “You think I can’t tell when a woman wants me? I bet your little pussy is drooling right now.”

You stare at him wordlessly. Damn it, he’s right! You uncross your legs and cross them again, trying to give yourself a bit of relief. You want his rough, thick fingers inside you. 

Toji leans back, letting his thighs spread apart. He’s pushed back far enough from the table for you to see his crotch, and the outline of something impossibly huge. He notices you looking. “That’s right. Take a good look. I bet you’ve never seen a dick this big before. Now imagine how it’s gonna feel when I’m ramming it in your tight little hole.”

Your breaths are coming quicker despite your best attempts to remain calm. You glance up at the camera in the corner. Toji follows your gaze. 

“I’m guessing you need to do something about that,” he says. “Probably wouldn’t look very professional to be on camera getting your guts rearranged by a prisoner, huh?”

You place the pen and notebook in your bag and stop the recording device. The twenty minutes are almost up. “I’ll think about it,” you say as calmly as you can. 

He smiles at you as the guard opens the door and escorts you out. 

For the next several days, you continue your sessions with Toji. Neither of you mention his proposition, and he never removes the handcuffs again, at least as far as you know. Still, just knowing he can if he wants to gives you a thrill. 

He’s surprisingly open during his sessions. He tells you about a miserable childhood, a violent youth, a marriage that ended in the death of the only woman he ever loved, and (most shocking of all) a teenage son he hasn’t seen in years. 

“I send him money,” he tells you. “He accepts it, but he never answers when I call or text him. Not that I blame him. Guess it’s embarrassing to have a murderer for a father.”

There’s a hint of sadness when he says it, the first genuine emotion you’ve seen from him. But he shrugs like he doesn’t care and moves on from the topic. 

Fushiguro Toji is a fascinating man. If possible, you’d love to help him. 

But first, you want him to fuck you until you can’t form thoughts. 

A week after your first session with him, you decide to do something about that damn camera. It’s an easy task for you, someone who can move freely through the prison and has the trust of everyone there. The first step is to disable the monitor in the security room, which you do with no issue. It’s a temporary thing though, so you have to hurry to the consultation room and disable the camera itself while the monitor isn’t working, so no one sees what you’re doing. 

Once the camera has been broken, you’re home free. You’ve worked here long enough to know it’ll take several days for them to replace the camera. 

So today, when the guards walk out of the room, you lock the door behind them. Toji notices, and glances at the camera. “I take it that’s not recording?”

You nod. “It’s completely busted.”

He moves his arms around in front of him, uncuffed, and stands up, rolling his shoulders. Then in an instant he’s right in front of you, pressing you back against the wall, looming over you with a threatening aura. “You’re takin’ a big risk,” he says, “being alone with a guy like me. You must want my dick real bad.”

Your heart is pounding. This man could snap your neck like a twig. He could kill you before you can blink. But fuck, you’re so turned on! 

You smile up at him, using your hands to press back against his chest. “Sit down and I’ll show you how much I want it.”

His eyes seem to light up. He wears that familiar smirk as he returns to the chair and sits, lazily opening his legs. As you walk over, you unbutton your crisp white shirt, revealing a sexy lace bra you picked for today. You drop the shirt on the floor and unzip your pencil skirt, stepping out of it. You’re wearing matching lace panties with silk stockings and a garter belt. You chose the sexiest combo possible for this encounter. 

Toji seems to appreciate your efforts. His eyes drink in your form as he palms himself through his prison issued sweat pants. Then he slides the waistband down, and the biggest cock you’ve ever seen pops out. Strong and tall like its owner, it’s already rock hard. It looks delicious. 

When you reach him, you drop to your knees in front of him and grasp his shaft in one hand. Your fingers can’t even wrap all the way around its veiny girth, but you stroke him slowly, watching the massive organ twitch in your grip. You lean forward and lick the tip, then slide your tongue all around it, drenching it with your saliva before taking it into your mouth. 

It doesn’t fit, but you manage to get most of it in without choking. You’re pretty proud of your throat game, so you press even further down, letting him fill your mouth completely, almost swallowing him. You hear a short grunt and feel his big hand on your head, holding you down. You focus on breathing through your nose, your tongue licking the underside of his cock while your throat tightens around him. 

Finally he releases his grip, and you pull back enough to lick him properly, sucking on the tip with your pursed lips. Then he’s in your mouth again, and you’re moving your head back and forth, looking up at his face as you repeatedly take him halfway down your throat. 

His hand is now resting on your head, not applying any pressure but threading his fingers through your hair. “Fuck, you weren’t kiddin’ about bein’ hungry for my dick!”

After a few more minutes pass, his grip tightens again, and he shoves your head down even further than before, completely cutting off your air. Then, he shoots his cum directly down your throat, forcing you to swallow every drop. 

When he releases you and pulls out of your mouth, you sputter and gasp, then you diligently get to work cleaning his cock with your tongue, savoring the taste of his cum. You’re in a hurry to get him hard again. You’ve arranged for the sessions to last forty-five minutes, and you don’t intend to end this without being thoroughly fucked. 

Thankfully, Toji has plenty of stamina. He’s hard again in no time, standing up from the chair and tearing the delicate lace underwear from your body. You wince, trying not to think about how expensive they were. 

His hands are all over you, roughly exploring every inch. When his hand dips down between your thighs, and he feels how wet you are, he grins. You’re waiting for some quip, but instead he jerks you around to face away from him and pushes your upper half face down on the table. He gives your bare ass a slap before his hands spread your cheeks. His knees push your legs apart, and with no warning, he shoves all the way inside your dripping pussy. 

You gasp at the stretch, at how fucking huge he is, but he doesn’t hesitate for a moment before he’s pounding into you. He’s probably aware of the time limit himself, so he wastes no time with letting you adjust to his size. 

He fucks you hard, so hard that your feet are knocked off the floor and your legs dangle from the table. You hold onto the edge of it with both hands, gripping it for dear life, crying out obscenely each time his tip slams into your cervix. 

“Ahh, fuck! You’re gonna break me!” you yell. 

You hear Toji laugh behind you. “I thought you could handle me!”

You rise up from the table, arching your back, and reach back with one arm to grab his shirt and get some leverage. You take one of his hands from your waist and move it down, between your pried open thighs. He takes the hint, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it vigorously, spreading your leaking fluids all around. You moan at the touch, leaning back into him, letting the pleasure overtake you. 

With a thrill, you imagine the horrified looks on the guards’ faces if they walked in. You locked the door, but they have a keycard to open it. At best it would buy you a few seconds. But the thought of being caught moaning and cumming on a murderer’s cock sends you over the edge. You cry out, your body spasming as Toji impales you, your aching pussy clenching around him. 

“You got yours,” you hear him say, his fingers giving a quick pinch to your hyper sensitive clit, “now I’m gonna fill you up.”

You barely have time to process those words before you feel his hot cum shoot inside you, all the way to your core. 

When he’s finished, he pulls out and tucks himself back into his pants. He watches you lean against the table for a few moments, trembling and trying to catch your breath, too exhausted and sore to even close your legs. But you have to straighten yourself out. The clock is ticking. You stagger over to your pile of clothes and pull them back on, shoving your shredded underwear into your bag. 

You look at him, sitting there looking so smug and calm… and so very fuckable. You reach into your bag and pull out the item you swiped from the security room earlier. You step over and hand it to him. 

“This is a master keycard. It should let you open any door until they figure it out. Do whatever you please with it,” you tell him. 

He takes it, slipping it into the pocket of his sweats. “Awful nice of you.”

“Go and see your son. Make things right with him.”

His eyes widen, then he looks away, seeming the slightest bit awkward for the first time. “You’ll get fired if anyone finds out.”

You shrug. “So I won’t let anyone find out. Don’t snitch on me.”

He laughs as he looks back at you. “Thanks, doll. I’ll find you on the outside.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Is that a threat?”

He smiles, the scar on his lips stretching. “It’s a promise.”

[arlana-likes-to-write]

You Look Happier

Part 4 of the Family, Pawns, and Sins of the Family

Summary: After every thing you've been though, it's time to move forward. While doing just that you run into a unlikely friend that looks past the scars you bare.

Warning: panic attack, mention of past abuse, suicidal thoughts, fluff, Kamala is a joy and I love her, small scene of a guy grabbing the reader, mention of nightmares, facing past abusers in court.

Word Count: 5.4k

Note: Ignore the fact that I said the next chapter of Second Chance will be posted today, I finished this one shot instead lol. Also, this will probably be the last part of this!

*

Healing was not linear. If this whole experience taught you one thing, it was that. Some days were good. They were great. You smiled and laughed without restraint. Those good days bleed into good weeks. Then, the darkness over your shoulder would rear its ugly head. All your hard work to overcome everything seemed pointless when you couldn’t leave your bed and your moms stayed by your side out of fear you would hurt yourself. There were close calls. The overwhelming urge sometimes became too much. You wanted to feel anything besides their hands on you.

Tonight was the end of a terrible day. You shut down after your therapy appointment. The mid-afternoon nap you took was ruined by a nightmare, and the court called, and they needed you to testify against Principal Cook. It was not your day. Still, you managed to pull yourself out of bed when the Avengers came over for a cookout. You sat at the fire pit with a marshmallow on the end of the stick. The flames engulfed the sticky treat and fell into the fire. Sighing, you blew out the flame and leaned back into the chair. You pulled the blanket to your chin and watched the get-together.

“Hey bug,” Natasha slid next to you. The chair was big enough for you two to sit comfortably without touching it, but you folded it against her. You buried your face in her shoulder and felt her hand draw shapes on your back. “How are you feeling?” Lying was never an option when they asked you this question. They would rather have the brutal, honest truth than a lie. It was a hard thing to overcome in the beginning.

“I’m,” Tired. Sad. Angry. “Struggling.” You sighed.

“Yeah,” Natasha kissed your forehead. “Today was a lot.” You nodded against her.

“Have you heard from the lawyers?” It was Natasha’s turn to sigh and kiss your forehead again.

“Not yet. They are talking with Cook’s defense team and hoping the man will take a plea deal.” You nodded and closed your eyes. The constant motion and her soft humming almost sent you to sleep. “Your mama and I have to go to the tower tomorrow. Is it okay to have your therapy session online?” The other thing was they refused to let you stay home alone on terrible days. It made sense. Through all of this, they wanted you to be safe.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “That’s fine.” There was no need to open your eyes because you knew there was a smile on her face.

“I love you, our firefly.”

“I love you too, mom.”

*

Today was better. Your therapist let you discuss your relationship with Wanda, Natasha, and the twins. It was a breath of fresh air to talk about something positive. The two Avengers were still in their meeting, so you waited for them on the common floor. It was half your fault. You were looking at your phone when a body slammed into you, causing you and your phone to fall to the ground. “Are you okay? Is your phone okay? Do you have a concussion?” You blinked at the girl with long brown hair and bright brown eyes. “Oh my god, I’ve concussed you.” She cried, placing her hands on top of her head.

“I’m not-wait. Who are you?”

“I’m Kamala Khan,” she offered you her hand, which you took to stand up.

“I’m-”

“Oh, I know who you are. Peter won’t stop talking about you. He says, You’re super cool.”

“I’m-” broken. Hurt. Sad. “Okay,” she laughed, and the sound erupted butterflies in your stomach. You noticed you were still holding her hand, and you dropped it suddenly. “Sorry,” you whispered. She smiled, picked up your phone, and looked it over.

“It’s not broken. I would have hated it if I gave you a concussion and broke your phone.” you were surprised by the laugh that you let out. It only made Kamala’s smile grow. “Here you go.”

“You should put your number in it,” a surge of confidence washed through you. Her eyebrows went up. “I mean, you did assault me. I think you owe me,” her mouth opened and closed like a fish. It was cute.

“I see why Peter likes you,” she said, handing you the phone so you could open it, and she quickly put her number on it. “I have to run-”

“Hopefully, not into someone again,” you said with a playful smile. She rolled her eyes.

“But I’ll see you again. Text me so I can have your number, too.” You waved bye as she ran off. Flopping onto the couch, you sent Kamala a simple hello with your name. For some reason, your cheeks were hurting from your smile.

*

You giggled at the funny meme Kamala sent you of Yelena and Kate that she made. You befriended the girl three days ago, and her goal seemed to make you smile. Even after a tough day at therapy, you were welcomed with messages from her that made it better. “Alright, enough,” your phone was ripped away from you. You gasped as you watched Yelena go through your phone. “You’ve been giggling all night. Who are you texting?”

“Mama, tell her to give me my phone back,” Wanda chuckled, standing over the stove to make dinner.

“Give her the phone back, Belova,” the witch laughed. “But I am curious who has got you smiling so much.” Yelena refused to give you the phone.

“First off, you’ve met Kamala,” she handed Wanda your phone. Instead of looking through it like the Black Widow, she returned it to you. “Second, I am going to kill her.” You smiled.

“We ran into each other at the tower,” you texted her, letting her know Yelena saw the memes she made. “Literally,” you mumbled. Every time you thought about how you met your new friend, you laughed. This was amplified when Kamala responded, saying you betrayed her trust.

“Hey,” Yelena snapped her fingers in front of your face. You jumped, not expecting it. “Your mama was talking to you.” The Blonde rolled her eyes and left the kitchen.

“Sorry,” you apologized. “What were you saying?” Wanda smiled with a shake of the head.

“I said dinner is almost ready. Can you go wash up and get your brothers?” You nodded and closed the book you were trying to read, but you were distracted by your phone. “And sweetheart,” you stopped to look at Wanda. “She’s making you smile a lot. Is there more going on?” You felt your body heat up.

“N-no,” you stuttered. “We are just friends,” Wanda smirked. “Mama, we are.”

“Okay, I’m just teasing,” you huffed and walked to your room. You dropped your textbooks and notebooks on your desk. Friends. That was all you and Kamala were. Nothing more. Right?

*

You were nervous as you stood outside Natasha’s home office. You could do this. You could do this. Knocking the door, you heard her voice on the other side telling you to come in. You entered and closed the door. “Hey bug, what -” she stopped mid-question. “Are you okay? You look like you are going to be sick.” Instead of answering, you walked to the front of her desk.

“Can I ask you something?” Natasha nodded, the worry evident on her face. “Can I go to the movies?” The Black Widow blinked at once, twice.

“Jesus, kid, you were about to give me a heart attack,” she let out a shaky breath and placed her hand on her chest for added effect. “Who would you be going with?”

“Uh Kamala,” you played with the fidget ring Yelena gave you after they saved you from Dmitri. “She and a few of her friends are in the city, and they invited me to see Detention Disaster with them.” It was a comedy. You looked at an in-depth review of it, so you knew nothing would trigger you.

“Are you sure? That’s a big step,” you knew what she meant. You rarely went anywhere besides the tower, the park down the street, and your brother’s school. Natasha and Wanda were with you even if you went somewhere outside your comfort zone.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, but you wouldn’t grow or heal if you stayed constant. “But I’d like to try.”

*

“That scene in the cafeteria was so funny,” Bruno said as he walked next to Nakia. “And it was shot so well,” Kamala chuckled and shook her head at her friend.

“Did you enjoy the movie?” She asked you. You were walking behind Bruno and Nakia.

“Yeah, it was funny.” Even after reading the very in-depth review, the movie still managed to make you laugh. Also, the comments Kamala and Bruno made to one another throughout the entire movie added another layer of comedy. They thought they were being quiet. Still, they walked no matter how often Nakia threw popcorn at them. You liked Kamala’s friends, who included you in their group.

“Hey, there is an arcade over here. Do you guys want to go?” Bruno asked. He stopped walking so you could catch up. The arcade was loud and unpredictable. There were too many things to account for.

“It’s up to you,” Kamala said. I can take you back home.” Home was safe and predictable—well, your brothers were not, but they knew your boundaries. But you shook your head.

“An arcade sounds fun,” you said. Today was good, and you wanted to keep hanging out with them. If they wanted to go to an arcade, then you would go no matter how much anxiety swirled in your stomach.

Luckily, it wasn’t busy. A small group of kids was at the basketball game, and some were looking at the prizes through the glass box. You bought a card with your tokens, and Kamala grabbed your hand to show you all her favorite games. You were worried that she thought you were clingy, but she kept a tight hold on you. Playing video games with your brothers helped you with some of the games. You beat Kamala on some of the two-player games.

It was fun, and you pretended you were a normal kid for a split second. No deep trauma that kept you awake at night. No scars that ached when it got cold. You were a kid having fun with her friends.

Until you walked alone as you decided on the next game, you needed a few more tickets and could get a new fidget toy. Suddenly, you felt a body crash against your back, and you stumbled forward. Your first thought of who it was was Kamala. For an Avenger, she was very clumsy. “Hey, watch where the fuck you are going,” you turned around to see a guy; he had to be 18.

“You ran into me,” you said. “You should listen to your advice.” You turned away, but he grabbed your arm and spun you back around. He pushed you against the arcade machine. The corner dug into your lower back, and you let out a pained yelp. Fear washed over you. His mouth was moving, but nothing he said mattered to you. It was happening again. Why? You felt frozen. The way his hands felt on you transported you to Jason, Conner, and Dmitri. Then, a new pair of hands were touching you.

“Hey, Y/n,” the voice said. “You’re safe. I need you to breathe for me.” Your chest felt tight, and it was impossible to get air into your lungs. “What do you need?”

“Hands,” you managed. “Get your hands off of me.” They were removed instantly, and you slid down to the ground, bringing your knees to your chest.

“You know you missed me kicking Bruno’s ass in basketball,” it was Kamala. Kamala was in front of you. “I mean, I was cheating, but don’t tell him that.” You managed a chuckle, which Kamala smiled. “Are you back with me?” You nodded, licking your dry lips. “Bruno and Nakia brought that guy to the manager, and he’s calling the police.” Again, you nodded. “Do you want me to call your parents?”

“No,” you finally spoke. The reality of the situation caught up with you, and embarrassment washed over you. You jumped to your feet. “Shit, sorry that was-”

“Whoa,” Kamala stood up slowly with her hand sup. “It’s okay. You did nothing wrong.” But you did, and if you just walked away from him, none of this would have happened. “No matter what happened, he should have never put his hands on you.” You nodded again. “Come on, let’s go somewhere more private.” She let you go to a small back room used for birthday parties. You were grateful she kept her hands to herself when she opened the door. You slumped in one of the chairs and placed your face in your hands. You heard Kamala sit in front of you. “Are you okay?” She finally asked. You sighed.

“I wanted today to be good and normal,” you said. “But it’s like one step forward and four steps back.”

“Isn’t that the point?” You removed your hands and looked at her. “Healing. Some days are better than others. It’s how it is,” she carefully took your hand, and you allowed her to. “And today was fun. I had fun hanging out with you.”

“I had fun, too,” you admitted. She smiled.

“These things will happen,” she continued. “And that is okay. There is nothing to be embarrassed about. I will be there to help you. If you want me to, at least,” she added quickly. You smiled.

“As long as I don’t scare you off.”

“You could never,” she spoke with so much confidence, and without hesitation, you almost believed her.

Delete Created with Sketch.

Today was a bad day. You had to go down to the courthouse to prepare for your testimony against Principal Cool. He wasn’t there, but you had to relive the whole ordeal. After that, Billy and Tommy begged to get ice cream. However, a man mistook you for someone else and grabbed you by the arm. The cherry on top was Kamala was on a mission with Carol. You missed the way she could make you smile and laugh.

It was past midnight. No matter how many times you tried to go to bed, every horrible thing flashed through your mind. Your phone buzzing caused you to jump, not expecting a phone call. Somehow, just seeing her name made you smile. It felt like your first genuine smile all day. “Hi,” you answered softly.

“Did I wake you up? I am so sorry. I can never figure out what time zone I’m in,” you giggled and rolled onto your back.

“No, I’ve been up. What are you doing calling me?” you asked. “I thought you said it was impossible to find cell service up there.” She was quiet, but you heard shuffling as if she was lying down.

“We usually can’t, but we found some. So Carol is calling Val, Monica is calling her mom, and I’m calling you.” Oh. That was a surprise.

“Why are you calling me?” She had her parents, brother, and her high school friends.

“Because I wanted to silly,” she answered. “Now, why can’t you sleep? Are you okay?”

“I’m,” Kamala knew bits and pieces of what happened to you. You strayed away from the more graphic details. It wasn’t easy to open up to your therapist. “I’m,” you sighed. “I miss you,” you admitted instead. Sometimes, it was easier to change the direction of the conversation.

“Awe, I miss you too,” you heard the smile in her voice. “I’ll be home soon, but you failed to answer my question.” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m tired,” you pushed the calm of your hand to your eye. And you were. You wanted to move past all of this and live a normal life.

“Get some sleep. I-shit. I’m sorry, I have to go. Carol needs me.” You were lucky she couldn’t see you, or she would have seen your frown. “Look, if you need anything, you call me, okay? I may not respond right away, but I’m here.” You nodded.

“Stay safe, superhero.”

“Always.”

*

Soft knocking woke you up. Slowly, you sat up and looked towards the sound. “Kamala,” you whispered. The girl was smiling on the other side of your window. You climbed over to it and opened it. “What are you doing?” She smiled.

“To see you. Can I come in? It’s cold,” you stepped out of the way, and she crawled through the window. It was a little clumsy. Her foot got caught on the window ledge. A small yelp, and she rolled off your bed and onto the floor. You cringed at the sound and were grateful that your room was on the first floor. Soon, your room was filled with laughter.

“Are you okay?” You closed the window. Kamala nodded and rubbed the back of her head.

“My pride took a hit,” you giggled and helped her. “Hi,” she smiled and sat down on your bed.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be in space?”

“Well,” she took off her shoes. “The mission is almost over, and Carol doesn’t need me, so she said I could go home.” You raised her eyebrows at her.

“The last time I checked, this isn’t your house,” she said, looking around the room with a confused expression.

“You know, I thought my room looked a little different. There are not enough Captain Marvel posters,” you rolled your eyes. Besides, Carol may not need me, but you do,” you looked at the ground. Kamala placed her arm around your shoulders. That’s okay, you know that? It’s okay to need people.” You shrugged.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you whispered. “You are an Avenger. You have more important things to worry about than someone as broken as me.” Kamala removed her arm and forced you to sit more on the bed. You crossed your legs to give her more room. She grabbed your hands.

“You are not broken. You are healing. That is a big difference. Soon, all these scars will heal,” you stared at your connected hands.

“What if whatever they broke inside me can never be fixed?” Kamala was quiet. She moved your hands so your palms were facing up. Her fingers were arms as she traced the lines on your hand.

“Then you learn to live without those parts,” she bite her lip. “When I discovered the true nature of my abilities, the old me was gone. I had to embrace the person I am now. It’s scary, terrifying really, but you have your family to help you,” she squeezes your hands. “You have me.” You looked at her, and she had a soft smile.

“Can you stay the night?” You whispered.

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” you stood up to get some clothes to change into. Once she was ready for bed, you climbed under the covers with her next to you. “For what it’s worth,” she broke the silence. “I think you are pretty great.” You bent your arm to rest your head on your hand. She was lying on her back.

“You think I’m pretty, superhero,” she rolled her eyes and mirrored the way you were laying.

“What if I did?” You raised your eyebrows in question. “I think you are pretty.”

“Oh,” you squeaked and cringed at the nose that escaped. “Scars and all?” You questioned.

“They are kind of badass,” she said. “Makes you all hot with the ladies.” She wiggled her eyebrows. You chuckled and pushed the girl on her shoulder. She fell onto her back.

“You are such a flirt.” You said.

“Just for you, khobsurat,” you titled your head at the foreign word. “It’s Urdu.”

“What does it mean?” You questioned. Kamala faced you.

“Beautiful.”

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted. You were never in a normal relationship. Everyone wanted something from you. Everyone tried to hurt you. “I’ve been hurt by so many people that promised not to.” Your biological parents used you to get money. Jason promised to love you. Principal Cook and Coach Griffo were hired to protect students. They all hurt you.

“I can’t promise I won’t mess things up because I’m an idiot,” you smiled. “I can be aggressively passionate, overwhelming, and loud, but I will never hurt you like they hurt you.” You nodded, looking down at the shapes on your blanket. “You don’t believe me.” You wanted to. You tried to jump head first, but you weren’t sure if your heart could handle any more heartbreak. It was already bruised, bandaged, and broken.

“I want to. It’s just-”

“Hard?” Kamala guessed. You nodded. “That’s okay. I’m not going anywhere,” she yawned, covering her mouth. “Sorry, that was rude.”

“Get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” She nodded and closed her eyes.

“Night, khobsurat,” she whispered. Was it weird that you watched her fall asleep? Maybe. But you liked how peaceful she looked. You weren’t sure when the last peaceful night of sleep you had. You were a little jealous. Sighing, you turned to your side and hoped for a nightmare-free sleep.

*

The sound of thundering footsteps woke you up. It was your only warning before your door opened, the force almost falling off the handles. “Breakfast - hey, what are you doing here, Kamala?” You heard the girl behind you groan. Sometime in the middle of the night, you gravitated towards each other. Her arm is secured around your waist. It wasn’t an uncomfortable position. You only allowed your parents and sometimes your brothers to cuddle you.

“Not sleeping,” she mumbled. Her breath caused goosebumps on your skin. That was uncomfortable. Your mind flashed back to every time someone held you down, breathing against your neck. You tensed up. “Hey, are you okay?” You shook your head.

“Mom!” Billy yelled. “Y/n has a friend over that she didn’t ask permission ,and she’s having a panic attack.”

“Billy,” you hissed, but your brother ran off. Kamala removed her arm and created some healthy distance between you and her. You needed some space, not your brother getting Natasha and announcing you were having a panic attack, which you weren’t. Now, the hurried footsteps were from the Black Widow.

“Is she going to kill me?” You heard Kamala whisper as Natasha slowed down. That was a great question you weren’t 100% sure about.

“Kamala, what the hell are you doing here?” She asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be in space?”

“Well, you see, Mrs. Romanoff,” Kamala said slowly. “I requested to leave my mission early because she seemed upset.” Your head whipped around to look at her.

“You told me your mission was almost over, and Carol didn’t need you anyone.” Her eyes widened, frantically looking between you and the Russian.

“I did say that, didn’t I? It was a white lie,” she said. “I knew if I told you the truth, you would make me go back, and you sounded so sad on the phone,” she held up her hands, almost to defend herself. “Carol knows the truth, and she approved it. I couldn’t lie to her,” she pointed to Natasha. “She scares me more than you,” she whispered. Her comment made you laugh, but you were still angry at her even though her heart was in the right place. Natasha scuffed.

“I scare you now. Is that so?” You looked at your mom. Her arms were crossed, and she was leaning against the doorway.

“No, ma’am, Mrs. Black Widow, sir.” You laughed so hard that you snorted, which sent Kamala into a fit of laughter. Natasha had a soft smile on her face.

“Breakfast is ready, girls. Come on,”

“Thanks, Mom,” the Black Widow nodded and walked back towards the direction of the kitchen, not bothering to close the door. Kamala let out a shaky breath and slumped back into the mattress. “I can’t believe you lied to me.” You pinched her side, and the girl yelped.

“It was for a good reason,” you rolled your eyes. “Are you telling me if I told you the truth, you’d let me stay?” There was no good reason you had. “Exactly,” she pinched your side back. “How did you sleep?” She sat up and stretched her arms above her head.

“Good, actually,” your mind was blank; no nightmare woke you up.

“Good,” she climbed out of the bed. “Come on. I’m hungry. Your superhero needs food,” she rubbed her stomach.

“My superhero?” She winked at you.

“I like the sound of that,” she teased and grabbed your hand. You were a little stunned, but you led her to the kitchen, where the rest of your family was. My superhero, you liked the sound of it, too.

*

“I’d like to call Y/n Romanoff-Maximoff as my first witness to the stand,” the prosecutor said your name, and your stomach still dropped. This moment was what you were preparing weeks for. All you had to do was take the stand, tell the truth, and be free. Easy minus facing Principal Cook and the side full of his supporters. But you weren’t alone either. Every Avenger that was not on a mission seemed to be there; even the Bartons made the trip to the city. Still, you felt frozen in your seat. Until you felt a hand on your shoulder squeeze it.

“We are right here, bug,” Natasha whispered. “Eyes on us the entire time.” You nodded and forced yourself to stand up. The prosecutor smiled at you as you passed her and headed for the witness stand. You tried to keep your eyes on your section. Even when the Bible was brought over to you so you could swear the truth and nothing but the truth. But you were curious, so your eyes flickered to his defense team. His lawyer was whispering to him, but Cook was watching you. The man smiled and gave you a little wave. You looked away immediately, eyes scanning your section until you found Kamala. She smiled, and the weight on your chest disappeared. You let out a shaky breath. You could do this. You could do this.

*

“I am so proud of you,” Wanda said for what felt like the 10th time once the trial ended. Her arms were wrapped tightly around you.

“Alright, darling,” Natasha smiled. “Don’t hog her. She’s got other people to thank for coming.” With a sigh, she let you go. You made your way around the large group right outside the courthouse. You thanked everyone for their support and tried to ignore the press taking your picture. Kamala was the last person you went up to. Immediately, you slumped into her arms.

“Hi,” she whispered. “Are you ready to go home?” You nodded against her. She took your hand and led you to your parent’s car. There was no need to say goodbye as everyone was invited to the house for a small party. It was your one request to do after the trial. You wanted everyone close by for a gentle reminder you weren’t alone.

Once again, you found yourself at the fire pit as you watched the party. Kamala sat down next to you and handed you a plate of food. “Are your parents enjoying themselves?” You saw them talking with Natasha and Wanda. They weren’t at the trail; they stayed at the house to set everything up.

“They are. I hope you are ready to hear many stories of when I was a baby,” you smiled and took a bite of your hamburger. “You know Yelena gave me the shovel talk,” your eyes widened. You knew when the Blonde found out you were dating Kamala; it was only a matter of time before the ‘talk’ happened. “It was nothing bad. She did not threaten bodily harm,” you laughed, a little surprised, and sipped your water. “She did make me promise something.”

“Are you going to tell me what that promise was?” Yelena was with the Bartons. Nate was handing on her back with his arms around her neck. She caught you staring and winked at you.

“She told me this has been the happiest she’s seen you,” you looked at the girl next to you. She was looking forward, but you saw her eyes flick to you. It wasn’t the first time you heard that statement. You look happier. Everyone said it in their way. “Is that true? Do you feel happier?” It was a complicated question because there were days you were on cloud nine. Others felt it impossible to move forward. But she made it better.

“Yeah, I am,” you admitted. “So, what promise did you make to her?” She took her free hand in yours.

“Just to keep you happy,” she kissed your cheek. “And you know how much I love making you smile.” You rolled your eyes and felt your body warm up.

“Hey, lovebirds,” you heard Kate yell. “I think you should cool off.” You gasped as the cool water drenched you and Kamala. You ignored Kamala’s laughter and looked at who was responsible: your brother, the Bartons, and Peter.

“Tommy, Billy, I’m going to kill you.”

“Awe, why?” Tommy whined. “It wasn’t just us.” That was true, but you had a free pass to bully them.

“Besides, it was mom’s idea,” your head snapped to look at the Black Widow, who was now with her sister and Laura. She was smirking at you. You narrowed your eyes at her.

“Give me your water gun,” you said to Billy. Your brother looked at you, then Natasha.

“I’ll speak kindly at your funeral, soldier,” he saluted you and handed you the water gun. You placed your now ruined food on Kamala’s plate.

“Khobsurat,” she stood up and grabbed your hand. “Are you sure about this? You have a lot of life to live.”

“Oh my god, guys,” you laughed. “I’ll be fine.” Well, you hopped anyway. Besides, you knew Wanda wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You were secretly her favorite. You pumped the water gun and looked at the Black Widow. She shook her head and mouthed ‘no.’ You winked at her and used your powers to turn invisible. Since the Avengers saved you from Dmitri, you rarely used your powers. Besides the occasional training session Natasha and Wanda put you through. You were grateful for that; what they taught you kept you alive. It felt good to use your powers for fun.

You watched the Black Widow walk over to Wanda and wrap her arms around her waist. She was talking with Maria and Sam. Clever or suicide to use the witch as a shield, but it would not stop you. Carefully, you walked closer to them. “What are you doing, sweetheart?” Wanda asked. Natasha placed her head on her shoulder.

“Can I not love on my beautiful wife?” The witch narrowed her eyes at her.

“Who did you piss off?” You slapped your hand over your mouth to stop the sound of your laughter. Wanda glanced around the yard. “Get off of me.” But Natasha held onto her tighter. “Natalia Alianovna Romanova, I will not be your shield because you messed with our enhanced daughter.” Sam laughed, throwing his head back.

“You got your full government name,” he teased. You are in the dog house.” The Black Widow pouted, but her arms remained locked around Wanda.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ Wanda’s voice echoed in your head. Usually, it would scare you. Now, it was a calming presence when you felt her magic enter your mind.

‘Sorry, mama,’ You appeared behind Natasha and unleashed your water onto her back. Natasha gasped and moved Wanda to take some of it. You stopped immediately but still got her wet. You cringed. “That was not my fault,” you said. The witch sighed.

“I know,” Red Magic took the water gun out of your hands. “Run Romanoff.” The Black Widow’s eyes were filled with fear, and you laughed as she took off towards Tommy, who threw his water gun at her. Yes, you were happier—all thanks to them.

[starlingbite]

Buck, naked

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Buck/Eddie Wordcount: 12k Summary: When Frank suggests an art class as a form of relaxation during one of Eddie's therapy sessions, Eddie somehow ends up in a life drawing class. There's no way he could predict what happens next. Neither could Buck. Somehow they make it work.

READ HERE

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It starts with a suggestion from Frank.  “Art therapy?” Eddie repeats after he hears the suggestion. He thinks back to the art therapy sessions Christopher did after the tsunami. “Like drawing my feelings?”

With a patient smile, Frank digs out a flyer from a nearby stack of books. “I’m not suggesting you see an art therapist, but rather use art as your therapy,” He explains, “Use it as an outlet, a way to relax and spend time focusing on yourself.”

The flyer is offered in Eddie’s direction and he takes it. The glossy advert is for a nearby community college that he’s driven past a few times. 

“They have a variety of art classes there, for people of all skill levels. You tell them I sent you, you get twenty percent off the cost of the class.”

“Huh.”

“There’s no requirement here,” Frank reassures him, “But I really do think it will be beneficial for you.”

As soon as he gets home, he sticks the flyer up on the fridge just underneath a recent photo of him, Buck and Christopher at the park and there it sits for a few weeks. Thankfully, Frank doesn’t ask about it and Eddie doesn’t bring it up. 

He’s not sure why he puts it off for so long, or what makes him finally call up the college, but a woman with a posh accent answers and Eddie stumbles over his words slightly as he tries to explain why he’s calling. 

There are only a few classes that will fit with his work schedule that appeal to him and he lists them out to her.  “I’m sorry, classes start next week and those are all fully booked, we’re quite in demand you know.”

“Oh.” Eddie stares at the list of other courses on the back of the flyer. “What’s still available?”

“Not much I’m afraid…” He hears the clack of a keyboard as she looks through the booking system, “Oh wait, here’s something, there’s one free spot available in our life drawing class, every Tuesday morning at 10am.”

“Life drawing?” Eddie repeats. That can’t be what he thinks it is, right?